by Odessa Lynne
Cam kept his mouth shut.
Rick kissed the side of Cam’s throat.
Cam turned his head toward the door less than twelve feet away. It might as well have been on the other side of the damn bunker for all the chance he had of getting there if Rick didn’t release him.
“When my people arrive and we take you and yours to the den with us, you’ll have a great deal to explain to Traesikeille. There’s only so much help I’ll be able to give you until you’ve satisfied him of your intentions. Your government has broken the treaty. The American Protectorate is ours to guard and your interference isn’t welcome.”
Rick was passing the time, telling him these things. Everything he said was true, but only to an extent. But Rick could afford to pass the time with talk—he believed his people were on the way, and Cam had no way of letting his own people know what was coming.
Cam had made a costly mistake. He’d underestimated Rick.
The cameras in the cell were gone.
Hell, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because Cam would have just shut them off the way he had every other time—
Ah, hell.
“You’ve been transmitting every time I’ve come in here and we’ve fucked, haven’t you?”
“You mean after we’ve mated?”
“Yeah, after we’ve fucked,” Cam said, putting the same emphasis on “fucked” as Rick had put on “mated.”
Rick’s eyes narrowed on him. “Of course.”
“Of course. Son of a bitch.”
“I protected you from First Alpha while I could. I should have contacted my people as soon as I had you, but my instincts told me to wait. And then I had no choice but to wait longer, and I believe that was when I realized my fate had finally found me. You are mine, Cam Lujan, and because of that Traesikeille will not treat you as an enemy. Be grateful your submission has guaranteed leniency from him.”
Cam strained his arms again, his muscles burning with effort. Any human and Cam would’ve been free already. His size usually gave him all the advantage he needed. Not so with Rick. Even though Rick was just as tall, he wasn’t quite as broad as Cam, and yet, it didn’t matter. Rick had more power in one arm than Cam had in his entire upper body.
And then Rick wavered out of existence.
“Oh hell,” Cam said as the world went white and red around him, like the afterimage that came from staring toward the sun too long. “Are you kidding me?”
Rick released Cam’s left arm. A warm weight settled on Cam’s chest. “What’s happened? Your heart is racing.”
“My implant’s stopped working again.” A wave of vertigo slammed over him and he jerked, the sensation of falling so real that he couldn’t distinguish between reality and fantasy for the two seconds it lasted. His stomach heaved.
Rick moved them both, fast. He pushed Cam onto his side and rolled him right to the edge of the bed and pushed his head down.
Cam threw up. His vomit hit the floor with a vulgar splatter and the acidic smell hit him right in the back of the nose. His stomach heaved again. He couldn’t see the mess he made, but he sure could smell it.
“I have you,” Rick said, voice calm, hands firm on Cam’s arm and the back of Cam’s head. “I won’t let you fall.”
Cam tried to knock Rick’s hand away from his head. “Enough.”
Rick’s fingers slipped down Cam’s spine and he started rubbing the center of Cam’s back. “I heard what your friend told you. It’s one reason I made my last transmission my final one. You and the boy need our help.”
Cam rested his sweat slick forehead on the sheet beneath him. “Mig is mine. What his father did, I don’t want him paying for that.”
He felt Rick’s silence all the way into his bones.
“The boy is young. He isn’t alpha. He won’t be responsible for any actions but his own.”
Relief surged and Cam couldn’t stop the way his shoulders relaxed. He raised his forehead off the sheet and stared unseeing in the vague direction of the door.
Footsteps pounded on the floor outside.
The lock disengaged and the door slammed open.
Someone stumbled into the room. He heard the odd stutter of footsteps, a soft “ooph” followed by a dull thud.
“Cam . . . someth’n wrong with . . .” Cordell’s voice, slurred. Another dull thud followed.
Cam dropped his forehead back to the sheet. Gathering his thoughts took a heavy effort.
Rick’s voice came from behind him. “We’ve dispersed drugs into the air through the ventilation system.” Warm fingers touched the side of Cam’s face. “Let go. When you wake, we’ll be—”
Those were the last words Cam heard.
* * *
Cam heard nothing. He felt a vibration under his hand and felt warmth on his face, but he could neither hear nor see anything.
He had to raise his hands to his eyes to even know for sure his eyes were open.
Then he had to wonder if he was trapped in a dream. Was he asleep, dreaming of a silent world that wasn’t dark but had no shape he could make sense of?
Flashes of light blinded him and he winced.
“What’s going on?” he demanded. All he could hear was a painful vibration where his words should have been. He didn’t get an answer.
So he repeated himself again, and again. And again. Until his throat hurt, and someone touched his hand and something warm and firm pressed against his lips, shushing him.
That was real, he was sure. Warm fingers, claws pricking at his palm.
He grabbed the hand with all the strength he had and held on.
* * *
He really couldn’t say how much time passed in that strange world. Someone fed him. Someone cleaned him. Someone took him to the bathroom when he figured out how to signal what he needed.
He had no way to know where he was or who was with him, but he knew anyway. He was with Rick and he was in the wolves’ den. His left eye implant had been removed. Had his cochlear implants also been taken? He didn’t know. They’d been designed and installed by an entirely different team of scientists from those who’d designed the eye implants. They were permanent—removing them would’ve required surgery, and did he feel like he’d been cut on?
He couldn’t say.
He had no way to know what had happened to Ava, or Luis and Mig, or Cordell, Olly, Bel, or Tom. Or Marc, who still hadn’t returned to the bunker when Cam had locked himself in with Rick.
He’d never been without the benefit of his implants for so long; he’d never had to learn to communicate without them.
But when his panic and fear gave way to common sense, he realized he could still communicate, because of course he could. He could talk. But talking without the ability to hear wasn’t very useful to him, except that sometimes it felt like the only thing keeping him sane.
Rick had started answering his questions with taps against Cam’s skin, to the inside of his wrist, along his neck or cheek, sometimes in the palm of his hand.
Cam interpreted the gestures and taps as best as he could.
Yes, no, maybe. He’d figured them all out.
Numbers were easy.
The rest wasn’t.
Still, he no longer panicked the moment he woke up and realized his whitewashed world hadn’t changed.
At first, he’d counted his meals. He still counted, even though he didn’t need to. He’d asked how many days had passed since he’d arrived, and Rick had placed four gentle taps against the inside of Cam’s wrist.
He’d asked lots of questions. He’d discovered that all his implants had been removed. Ava and the boys were safe. Mig wasn’t dying. Marc hadn’t returned before the wolves had taken them. Olly, Tom, Bel, and Cordell were okay.
Whatever okay meant. Cam had tried a few more questions regarding them all, but Rick wouldn’t answer more questions about those topics.
Sometimes Cam asked so many questions he talked his throat raw. And then, a few times, he’d just talked.
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He’d done that yesterday, talking about Mig and Luis and some of the crazy shit they’d done between nine and fifteen.
He was sitting on the floor, with his back against a wall of soft cushions. He had a headache and hunger had started to gnaw at his stomach again already, but he’d noticed hunger rarely left him alone for long.
He’d been quiet through breakfast, trying to take it easy on Rick today, not talk about so much random shit. Rick had fed him some kind of omelet with sausages and something hot that tasted of sweet apples.
But now he was bored, and he’d been quiet long enough.
“How’s Mig doing?” he asked. He still hadn’t gotten used to not hearing himself speak. He never really knew if he was talking too loudly or too low, but he tried his best to keep his tone even.
In answer, Rick rubbed the top of Cam’s hand.
“That doesn’t tell me anything,” Cam said.
This time Rick rubbed the side of Cam’s face.
Cam huffed a soft breath. “Okay, I admit it wasn’t a yes or no question. He’s doing okay, right? Better than yesterday?”
Yes.
“Good. Ava still pissed?” Cam had asked enough questions about Ava to learn that she had problems with the fact that the wolves had separated everyone and wouldn’t let anyone visit Cam.
Maybe.
Just to confirm he hadn’t counted the number of taps wrong, he said, “Maybe?”
Yes.
“Luis?”
No answer.
He realized he needed to ask a question. “Is Luis with Mig today?”
Yes.
“When I get fat because of all this sitting around on my ass and being fed, we’re still going to fuck, right?”
A vibration shivered across his skin. He wasn’t sure if it was a laugh or something else, but surprise stole his ability to speak for a good three seconds.
“I heard that,” he said, reaching out for Rick. His fingers butted up against something hard, under a tight layer of fabric, and he ran his hands along the surface until he was sure he was rubbing his hands all over Rick’s rumbling chest.
Another few moments of exploration told him Rick was kneeling in front him, sitting back on his feet, his strong thighs slightly spread.
Cam didn’t stop to think about whether or not he should do what he wanted, he just traced his hand up one of those thighs and palmed what felt like—
Oh yeah.
Cam yanked at the fly on Rick’s trousers.
Hands clamped around his, stopping him. A sharp tickle on the inside of his wrists made him twitch. Rick’s claws were out.
“I’m in the mood to fuck,” Cam said. “I know you are. Have you gone all four days since we’ve been here without giving in to your heat?” He shook his head. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know if you’ve been fucking some wolf to get you through.”
No.
And then again, two emphatic taps. No.
“I’m hoping that’s not a no to sex.”
Maybe.
Rick pushed Cam’s hands to his lap and held them there.
A sudden touch to Cam’s face made him flinch. But it was only Rick, his mouth softly pressing against Cam’s.
Cam turned his head into the kiss. Rick’s tongue teased at Cam’s lips, slowly, carefully, as if Rick was afraid of scaring Cam with a sudden move.
Cam growled low in his throat and scrambled to his knees. He pushed into the kiss, biting at Rick’s bottom lip, tugging hard.
The rumble came again. Cam twisted his wrists free of Rick’s hold and fisted his hands in Rick’s shirt.
The kiss deepened. Rick nipped the corner of Cam’s mouth, while hot, ragged breath teased Cam’s lips.
“That’s right,” Cam said. “I can still fuck. I might not be able to do much else right now, but I can do this.”
Fingers curved around the back of Cam’s neck. An arm curled around his back.
Cam exhaled a loud oomph as Rick dragged him down to the floor. Cam bumped his hand against Rick’s arm as he moved to work his pants down.
He shucked the thin material down to his knees and thrust his hand out in front of him. “Lube.”
A moment later, Rick wrapped Cam’s fingers around a cold, heavy jar, and Cam took care of the rest, fucking himself on two fingers just long enough to make sure his asshole was ready for the stretch of Rick’s thick cock.
Rick flipped him around, and Cam ended up on his knees, his elbows giving way to Rick’s weight on his back as Rick pushed his way deep into Cam.
Cam gasped for breath against the cool, smooth floor, a pillow clutched in his arms, Rick’s head between Cam’s shoulder blades.
He didn’t need to see or hear to feel Rick’s ragged breath against his spine or the hot pleasure of Rick’s cock stretching him out. The scent of sweat and sex filled his lungs.
He reached for his dick, but Rick’s hand got there first, and Rick worked Cam’s dick until Cam was gasping just as raggedly as he was.
“See, I can do this,” Cam gasped out. “I can still fuck.”
He couldn’t hear Rick’s response, but he felt a deep rumbling vibration at his back.
The fucking was rough and fast, and Cam was grateful for every second of it. He came much too soon, and his knees started to ache long before Rick’s heat abated, but he didn’t care.
He felt every rake of Rick’s claws along his skin, every drop of sweat that trickled down his spine, every scrape of teeth at his throat.
Every vibrating rumble of Rick’s chest at his back.
Every fucking second of Rick’s cock sliding through the tight ring of his asshole.
Every hot splash of semen in his ass.
And when Rick slowed down, his entire body trembling over Cam’s, Cam felt the warmth of Rick’s strong arms around his chest, holding him tight.
Chapter 21
Cam napped for what felt like an unreasonably long time. He dreamed of claws at his back and teeth at his spine, and when he tried to tell Henry he was sorry, Henry didn’t let him speak.
He woke up gasping for breath, the feel of Henry’s finger pressing against his lips so real he could still feel the pressure there.
He jerked upright on the bed and immediately dragged his hands alongside him over the sheets.
Nothing.
Rick must have gone sometime while Cam was asleep. Cam swallowed and eased himself onto the side of the bed.
He’d been meaning to try to map out the room, but when Rick was present, he inevitably stopped Cam before he got very far.
He stood and started a slow, careful walk around the room. He had a talent for visualization and he used it to put together a picture in his head of what the room might look like, where the obstacles were, the windows, the doors. The damn bathroom.
He was tired of having to rely on Rick every time he needed to take a piss—or do other, less mentionable, things.
The left wall came up on him quicker than he expected and he almost mashed his nose into what felt like a bookcase of some kind.
No, not a bookcase.
His hands slid over smooth, slick glass. He frowned. He dragged his hand up and then down the length of one side but he still couldn’t tell what the hell he was feeling. He gave up, turned, and followed the wall. The bathroom was somewhere over—
His knee smacked into something hard and sharp. “Ow!”
He stooped and rubbed his kneecap. Then he let himself determine the shape of whatever it was he’d hit.
He honestly couldn’t figure it out. He thought it might be a side table, but why the hell would there be a side table sitting empty and alone in the middle of the wall?
What if he wasn’t in a bedroom? He’d thought he was . . . but he hadn’t asked. He’d assumed.
Something brushed the back of his neck.
Cam jerked, twisted, and nearly lost his balance.
Hands clasped him at the waist.
“Rick?”
The hands
at his waist released and then fingers tapped lightly against Cam’s forearm.
Yes.
Rick tugged on Cam’s hand, drawing Cam across the floor in the direction Cam would have taken on his own to get back to the bed.
Cam experienced a surge of triumph. “Try not to move anything. I’m making a map in my head,” he said, tapping his temple with his fingertip. “Got it?”
Yes.
God, he missed the sound of voices. It had only been four days—and four days had already been too long.
He knew he’d reached the bed when Rick stopped him and urged him to turn. Cam followed Rick’s direction and then sat back on the edge of the mattress.
He scrubbed his hand through his hair and resisted Rick’s effort to push him further back onto the bed. “How long am I supposed to give this before I start worrying?”
Rick’s fingers ruffled through the back of Cam’s hair.
“I wish you didn’t ignore my questions about this shit.”
Rick stepped between Cam’s thighs and hauled Cam close.
The side of his head mashed in tight to Rick’s chest. He raised his hands and held Rick around the waist. He sat there and imagined he could feel the vibration of Rick’s beating heart.
Maybe he wasn’t imagining things.
“Did your people find Trevor?” Matthew, he should have said, but Rick answered so quickly that Cam didn’t have time to correct himself.
Yes.
“I’m sorry.”
No.
Cam frowned and tried to raise his head, but Rick wouldn’t release him. “He’s alive?”
Yes.
A spark of relief flared bright and hot inside Cam’s chest. “That lucky son of a bitch.”
Yes.
Cam tried again to raise his head. This time Rick relented. Cam couldn’t be sure he was looking in the right direction, but he did his best. “You probably know by now it was my fault he got shot. Hell, you probably knew the moment they found him since you—”
A gentle series of taps on his arm interrupted him. No.
